


We Come Runnin'

by merrabeth



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Kidnapping, M/M, Woo!, like comic book references, mickey knows things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 20:50:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2039637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrabeth/pseuds/merrabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>anonymous said:</p><p> Could you write something where like ian is kidnapped or some shit?and Mickey goes out to get him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Come Runnin'

**Author's Note:**

> Titled after the song "We Come Running" by Youngblood hawk...no real reason. I was listening to it when I was writing most of it.

_Mickey: are you gonna be home for dinner?_

                The day was coming to a close for Mickey, and he hadn’t talked to Ian since this afternoon, when Ian told him he’d be spending the day with his siblings. It wasn’t an extraordinary ordeal; Mickey didn’t think much of it.

But it had been ten minutes and Ian still hadn’t replied to Mickey’s text, and that was a bit odd.

_Mickey: Ian?_

Still, nothing.

Mickey didn’t want to think the worst, so he finished up his time at the bar and headed over to the Gallagher house. He could hear it from the door; high pitched laughter and squeals. With a breath of relief, he knocked on the door. It was Carl who answered, opening the door and leaving it ajar as he saw who it was. Mickey took that as his cue to enter.

Stepping into the living room, he found the couch to be pushed back and to the side, next to the staircase, while the Gallagher family sat on the floor huddled around a board game. Well, the whole family, except one.

“Where’s Ian?” Mickey asked, making all eyes turn to him.

Lip was the first to speak. “He’s not here.”

Again, Mickey felt his heart flutter at the statement. “Well, when did he leave?” He’d only been at the bar for about four hours, and Ian would have stayed longer than that.

Mickey looked to each of them, searching for an answer. Fiona’s voice brought him to her.

“He…never came over.”

Ok, Mickey could worry now.

“Did you guys get into another fight?”

Mickey wasn’t sure what it was about the question that made him snap. Maybe it was the way she phrased it, or the way it made Mickey go back to the time when Ian really _had_ left and Mickey never sure when he was coming back. “No, we didn’t have another fight!” The worry he felt transcribed to all of their faces. “And besides, he would have told me if he was leaving. But he’s not even answering my texts.”

“Maybe he’s at home…sleeping?” suggested Debbie, but she wavered, not able to believe her own words as they came out.

Before anyone could come up with any other pathetic guessed, Mickey was out and running down the stairs and to the street. His blood rushed, pounding in his ears in sync with his steps. His house was deathly silent and unmistakably cold. He knew everyone was at work or walking the streets aimlessly.

“Ian?” his voice boomed relatively, compared to the dark silence.

All he got in response was the breeze whistling past the closed windows. Mickey’s heart dropped with his stomach. He just _knew_ Ian wasn’t here: the house had a certain brightness to it whenever he was around. He almost missed his phone ringing in his pocket but got to it in time to see the icon of Ian’s face. He answered with lightening speed.

“Ian, I swear to God-“

“No,” an unfamiliar voice interrupted with a bit of a whine. “Not Ian. But if you have to call him something, I’d go with Dead Man, since he’s about to be one.”

“Who the fuck is this?” The threat to Ian’s life kicked in a protective edge that even scared himself sometimes.

The person on the other end sighed. “Well, I have many titles: drug dealer, executioner, surgeon, carpenter- I’m about to reconstruct your friend’s face." He gave a cold laugh away from the receiver. “You see, I caught him trying to send you a message-“

Mickey growled. “If you lay a single finger on him-“

“Look, Mikey,” he accentuated, trying to take control back of the conversation.

“Mickey,” he corrected.

“Seriously? I thought that was a typo.” He gave the same laugh. The only word Mickey could think of to describe it was…dorky. All Mickey could picture on the other end was Gideon from Scott Pilgrim vs. the World. “Look, _Mickey_. Ian here has a debt that he just can’t pay. Unless you’re willing to cough it up for him…”

Mickey stayed silent, thinking what the best response would be. “How much?” he grumbled.

“A whopping 1500.” It was like he could hear the twisted, confused look on Mickey’s face. “I know, it’s chump change, but with this economy…” he trailed off, leaving the statement open for comprehension. “I’m giving you and hour to get the money and get over here.”

“Where’s ‘here’?”

“I’m text you the address. I hope you can retrieve the money- for you and your friend’s sakes.”

And just like that, the call ended.

Mickey was left with the dark stillness of his house.

“Mickey?” he heard Lip call behind him. He turned to see that he was accompanied by a fear struck Fiona and Lip.

“We need $1500.” His voice was grave and monotone as he spoke. “He have an hour.” They were all silent as they thought.

“We could dip into the Squirrel Fund,” Fiona suggested.

“And I could ask Amanda to lend me a few bills. She’ll probably-“

“No,” Mickey interrupted with a seriousness neither of them witnessed before. “No, let me take care of this.”

“Mickey, it’s fifteen-“

“I know how much it is!” He stormed toward his room, not listening to what they were arguing.

“He’s our brother, our responsibility, too…”

“Yeah, we can’t expect you to do all this. Gallaghers pay our debts.”

As they tried to reason, he went to his drawer full of weapons. He picked up his brass knuckles and one of his guns, quickly stuffing into the back of his pants. He lifted the wooden board to show a hidden compartment where he kept his Rub ‘n Tug money; he knows there’s about $3,000.

“Woah, Mickey,” Lip exclaimed as he saw the shorter man stuff bills into his back pocket. “We’re not letting you do this on your own,” Fiona said with stern finality. He looked back to see her standing ground with her arms folded.

“Well, Milkovichs pay our debts, too.”

“We have an hour-“

“I don’t give a fuck! I’m getting him now.” He paused, looking at the silver in his hands and the coldness of them. “The guy’s a drug dealer. Ian would’ve never gotten into that mess if it wasn’t for me.”

Fiona took a few steps forward as if she was going to comfort him. She topped a few steps away. “Ian’s episodes are _not_ your fault.” It was final. “We’re helping whether you like it or not.”

* * *

 

                Mickey stood outside the abandoned building that had been texted to him. He still had the knuckles and the gun, but now only half of the money was his while the other half was shoved to him by Fiona and Lip. He walked in through the front and was hit with a familiar ominous darkness to the place. he didn’t have to walk that far before he spotted Ian, sitting on the floor with his head down and his arms wrapped behind him and tied to a pillar. Then he spotted what had to be the drug dealer. Mickey was spot on with his guess. They guy had square framed glasses and a haircut that just screamed “pretentious douche bag”. When Mickey noted they were the only two people there, he smirked. Amateur .

“This your first kidnapping, ain’t it?” he spoke with confidence.

Gideon- Wannabe turned to him and sneered. “Or maybe I don’t need anybody else.” He looked Mickey up and down. “You Mickey?”

He rolled his eyes and sighed exasperatedly. “Yeah. We gonna do this?” He was done with the small talk.

“I’m gonna need the money first.”

Mickey shook his head. “No,” he corrected in a mock tone. Drawing out the gun, he pointed it and corrected, “I’m gonna need you to untie him first.”

Gideon- Wannabe drew out his gun with a shaky hand and slow reflexes. If that had been a shoot-off, Gideon would have been dead in an instant.

“This really is your first time.” He shook his head at the pathetic shitcase it was that had him worried just moments before. He took his free hand and brought out the money to wave between his fingers. “No go cut him loose.”

Unsurprisingly, the guy did exactly as Mickey said. Ian stood up slowly before he lifted his head and faced Mickey. With the dim lighting, Mickey could see the open wound on his temple and the blood that was drying to his face and matted down his hair.

“Thought I said not to touch him.” Mickey glared at the wound.

“How do you think I got him here? Now, the money.”

Mickey walked over to Ian and blindly tossed the wad over. He took Ian’s head and examined. His green eyes were blank, and Mickey hoped he’d never see that look again. “Ian,” he whispered over a shuddering breath. The only answer he got in return was a tired shake of his head.

“Oh,” the pretentious douche cut in. “You’re _gay_. You guys are, like, together. Boyfriends?”

Mickey’s finger twitched on the trigger. “You got a fuckin’ problem?”

He quickly shook his head and looked away. Mickey started guiding Ian towards the exit when he stopped abruptly, right in front of the dealer. He slipped on the brass knuckles and swung hard, his fist connecting with the guy’s jaw; TKO for Mickey.

* * *

 

“I’m sorry,” Ian mumbled when Fiona finished cleaning up and bandaging his wound. Mickey sat across from his, their knees pressed together.

“You had us fuckin’ worried,” Mickey mumbled, trying hard to be upset with Ian. But he couldn’t hide his relief. “Why didn’t you just tell me you had some joker on your ass?”

“I wanted to take care of this on my own.”

Mickey watched those green eyes cast down as he spoke. “Did you _want_ to, or did you think you _had_ to?” Mickey searched, happy that the emotion was back in the ginger’s eyes even though it was sadness. Mickey knew the answer. He leaned forward and grabbed the back of Ian’s head to move him closer; close enough to share the same breath.

“Ian, you’re never gonna be alone. You’re kind stuck with me…if that’s what you want,” Mickey added with a bit of uncertainty. It made Ian smile as close the space and pressed their lips together.

When they finally broke, Mickey gave a breathless laugh. “I’m guessin’ that’s a ‘yes’, then?” Ian gave a nod and Mickey’s grip tightened. “I’ll come runnin’, Ian. I promise.”

Lip and Fiona stood in the doorway of the kitchen, still amazed as all Mickey could do for Ian. “I think we just heard Mickey’s wedding vows,” Lip mumbled. Fiona gave a terse nod as she snickered.

“But hey,” Mickey perked up and sighed. “If you wanna feel in control, we could always take it to the bedroom.” Mickey smirked, eyeing Ian suggestively.

The older siblings winced a bit, have to hear the innuendo. “Nope, never mind.” They turned with the moment ruined as Ian started to laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> send me prompts on tumblr if you have any merrabeth.tumblr.com


End file.
